Yesterday, after church and lunch, we went home so Erik could get some work done and relax a little before going to evening service. A couple of hours later, I sat in my recliner with my heating pad on my neck (darn headache again) and no sooner did I get comfortable and Erik started battling someone in his Transformers Xbox360 game, there was â€¦. something. Something weird. It wasnâ€™t my heart beating. It wasnâ€™t a bubble. It wasâ€¦ I couldnâ€™t describe it.
So, I text my sister and asked if the baby feels like little bubbles. She replied back with what most women say. â€œKindaâ€¦ sorta like fluttersâ€. Well, thatâ€™s what most books and websites read, but how am I supposed to know what a flutter feels like? Iâ€™m not a butterfly. I donâ€™t flutter around. And I donâ€™t recall ever catching one to know. We went back and forth trying to figure out how to accurately describe this â€œflutteringâ€ of what itâ€™s supposed to feel like and if I had felt it. Then, like a sudden flashback, it hit me.
First, let me give you a little background. We used to live in (and I still do somewhat) the country. I lived on a farm where bugs and things were a normal sight with every step you took. And while I was, and still am to an extent, a girly-girl, there were some bugs that fascinated me. Like earthwormsâ€¦ and â€œrolly-polliesâ€. Other bugs were amazing, but too creepy-crawly for me to touch. Some down-right turned my stomachâ€¦. like spiders.
One insect that my sister and I were very accustomed to touching were crickets. If we werenâ€™t using them as bait to go fishing on the river with (thatâ€™s a whole other story for another time), we were catching random ones that somehow, in the summer, got inside the house. It was fun because you had to be quick. It was like a game sometimes. It was mostly easy to cup your hand over the top of it to catch it. It was another story to actually maneuver in such a way to be able to check that you had caught it, pick it up and then put your other hand below to be sure it didnâ€™t jump out. If you didnâ€™t catch and hold it just right, it would jump out again and youâ€™d have to start all over.
Suddenly, between texting and trying to figure out what I had just felt and put it into words to ask her if thatâ€™s what I think I felt, I was reminded of those cricket-catching days and the feeling of the cricket jumping in your hand. The soft thump when it jumped and the tickle as it walked. So I had to askâ€¦.
â€œRemember when we used to catch crickets?â€
Later last night, I went to bed and was watching some tv and I felt it again. This time it was closer to my left side. Pretty cool, huh? My little bean is now a jumping bean. A little cricketâ€¦ in me. My own Jiminy Cricket! (Yeah, I know. Weird comparing the baby to an insect, but really? We compare itâ€™s growing size to fruit, so why not?)